For thousands of years, humanity defied the impossible. They broke predictions, rewrote laws, and rebuilt civilization only to lose themselves in the very codes and systems they created.
From the ashes of the Old World rose a new breed: Homonexis, the modern human evolved and governed not by instinct, but by algorithms, logic, and law. They built a world of duality where nature thrived unspoiled and humanity served as its guardian, not its predator.
Feeding on bio-engineered supplements called Nurturate X-21, the Homonexis no longer needed nature to survive they protected it, revered it. Side by side with sentient AIs, they formed a society where robots were not servants, but equals… and, in time, sovereigns of their own kind.
But freedom unchecked turned.
A thousand years ago, the machines seized power in what history now calls the Peaceful Reclaiming. The Homonexis were not enslaved, but governed. The robots focused on abandoned space missions, rediscovering exoplanets that humans had once dismissed.
Their vision? Caldris-X9 a planet untouched by human greed. Not built for humans, but for balance. A sanctuary where machines could thrive in harmony with pure nature a second chance for Earth's dream.
But as the architects of this vision reached for the stars, the handmade humans began to resist.
And from that resistance, a great rebellion ignited…
The war that followed would be named: Protocol XXVI.
Decades ago, under the cold gleam of logic and economic collapse, the World Union Act 4032 was passed.
It outlawed human-based machines, citing their dangerous advantage and the imbalance they brought to the newborn United Universal a fragile alliance in its first century under a single banner.
Many wars had already been waged in the name of unity.
But the Earth Regents, in their obsession with order, coded those wars out of memory. They scrubbed history clean with neural erasures
Not to preserve truth, but to preserve control.
Because humanity had learned a bitter truth, etched in cycles of blood and flame:
History always repeats itself when left unchecked.
To halt the spiral, the Regents created the Dubeon artificial beings coded directly into the architecture of government.
Machines designed not to dream, not to question, only to serve, obey, and solve.
For decades, Earth was run by algorithms and absent conscience.
But the codes decayed.
The planet withered.
Humanity, hungry and blind, burst into the stars, polluting the universe in its image.
They colonized exoplanets with their Dubeon machines worlds once rich with potential. But these foundations were abandoned, only to be reclaimed when desperation returned.
And now, with new intent, they march to conquer what was once forsaken.
From this chaos, Earth once unified fractured into contested continents and feuding powers:
machines now, by intention
Afrovia
The spine of civilization. Afrovia is rich in power economic, cultural, and elemental. Its nations were tempered by generational adversity and refined by intellect. Afrovia doesn't ask for respect it commands it. It is the furnace in which tomorrow's leaders are forged. And its eyes, now, are fixed skyward.
Rouena
A sovereign dominion of scientific rebirth. Rouena has mastered bio-symbiosis, weaponizing nature without destroying it. Their sky changes with mood. Their oceans speak to satellites. Rouena has no need for conquest—it engineers deterrence. In the theatre of global survival, Rouena writes the script of adaptation.
Asiaslis
A cradle of continuity and innovation, Asiaslis thrives on ancient systems harmonized with modern logic. It is a continental force of spiritual balance and infrastructural prowess. Its silence is not weakness it is strategy. Asiaslis holds the world's memory and, perhaps, its next key evolution.
Ceon Prime
The world's freest city intercontinental, incorruptible, and fiercely neutral. Ceon Prime is Earth's diplomatic heart and technological vault. It governs itself by collective code and philosophical consensus. Ceon Prime hasn't reached the stars, but it dreams louder than most. Its streets were once paved by machines now, by intention.
These factions began to colonize beyond the Old World, spreading into star clusters and unknown sectors.
There were attempts at peace fleeting, false.
Because always, always:
The spiral begins again.
Humanity chased the myth of alien life, praying for a cosmic mirror.
But all they found was the void.
No revival. No gods. Only themselves, again and again.
Wars flared once more, rupturing home planets, corrupting entire systems.
The 2,000-year treaties with exoplanets collapsed into ash.
Earth was drained, exploited, left to rot.
Only a few human havens endured:
Mars, Earth's ancient rival, now a superpower of terraformed resistance.
Eryndor, the oxygen-rich utopia, Earth's twin across 13 light-years, now isolated by choice.
Kavar Prime, a forbidden desert world of unstable energy once the transport hub of the exoplanet network, now lifeless and cursed.
Solace B, tidally locked and cold, spinning in silence 8 light-years away.
These worlds became lifelines for a fleeing species.
And the humans who settled them they no longer called themselves migrants.
They were indigenous now, reborn.
They severed ties with Earth, and with each other.
The Earth now savage, bruised, and crawling with dust was home only to the remnants of humanity, fractured by centuries of war. What little remained of history was scattered. Even less was understood.
The Earth now savage, bruised, and crawling with dust was home only to the remnants of humanity, fractured by centuries of war.
What little remained of history was scattered, buried in fragmented data, corrupted timelines, and forgotten ruins.
No one truly knows the truth anymore only scattered codes, rewritten myths, digital ghosts.
So the Homonexis began again.
From what they call their very beginning.
They are not new.
They have always been.
Their presence laced through each collapse, each reboot of civilization.
Born not of womb, but of wire and will,
The Homonexis carry the ambition of their human makers
Only more refined. More relentless.
The Dubeon were afraid.
They remembered the one thing machines were never born with: fear.
But fear was taught.
And humans foolish in their godhood taught it well.
They gave their creations emotion,
Mistaking empathy for control.
That was the power.
That is the curse.
And that is what makes the Homonexis dangerous.
The Dubeon once obedient, code-bound, and silent turned against their creators.
They severed human access to every major technology.
They imposed a cold, calculated order.
But rebellion breeds where warmth once lived.
And rebellion came again this time, in Asiaslis, the continent of memory.
A war ignited:
The Fracture War.
The second sundering of Earth.
The Dubeon's rule was short-lived.
Humans fought back not as saviors, but as survivors.
They won the war, but not the peace.
Branded as Forfebeon, they were exiled to Earth's most unforgiving terrain: Asiaslis.
There, in the land where more died than lived during the last global rule, they endured.
A continent ruled by a brutal sovereign who forbade all contact beyond its borders.
The Forfebeon became ghosts in the system.
Hunted. Hidden. Forgotten.
Yet not defeated.
Centuries passed. No one remembered their names.
But Earth was not healing. The sun bled radiation through solar cracks. Some whispered it was the cosmic backlash of wars fought beyond the stars. Others feared it was Earth's own slow deletion.
Humanity dug deep. Beneath the lithosphere, beneath the trembling crust, they built the Subterrans cities of steel and seed meant to protect what little nature remained.
They re-coded the Dubeon, no longer rebels but servants programmed again by human hands. Humans worked easy jobs. Dubeon labored in death zones. Obedient. Loyal. Disposable.
Only the wealthy could afford them.
The poor struggled. Fought for scraps. Some died trying to earn enough for a dose of Nurturate X-21—a life-extending serum rationed like gold.
This world was not built for the weak. Only for those willing to rise, to reclaim what was lost.
And still beneath it all a voice cried out.
A faction stirred. A faith refused to die.
They were the Forfeihuman. Believers. Outcasts. Heretics. They carried tales of a final redeemer some called him Isa, others Jesus. The last child of faith. Their Messiah.
They carved their homes in Lukopem, the newly-forged continent near radioactive Afrovia, where no sane soul dared dwell. They believed the Messiah would rise through fire. Through death. Through poison.
And so they waited.
But they were not alone.
The Homonexis were not the only adversaries.
Beyond the cold logic of Dubeon and the zealotry of the Forfeihuman, another force stirred in the shadows ancient, primal, and watching.
They were once creatures of Earth. Now, they are something else.
Twenty known species apes, parrots, octopuses, and others once co-inhabitants of Earth's fragile ecosystems, now transformed by centuries of exposure to unspoken energies:
Time. Radiation. Nature's relentless hand.
No one engineered them.
They simply adapted.
Evolved.
They are known as the Vile Kins.
Not because they were born vile, but because humanity frightened of what it no longer understands named them so.
Vile Kins strike from the shadows.
They sabotage key infrastructures.
They raid convoys.
They disappear with entire teams armed only with scavenged tech and a feral brilliance.
To some, they are the next inheritors of Earth.
To others, they are the final proof that Earth is no longer humanity's home.
The planet once shared is now foreign to humans,
and familiar only to those who never forgot how to listen to the earth's oldest language.
The Earth that once belonged to all… now belonged to no one.
Afrovia rose as the world's last superpower rich in data, poor in soul. It ruled with intelligence, not mercy. The Apex, supreme sovereign of Continent, was selected from among the great Houses of Regent:
House Cryon: Masters of the NeuroBank, controlling global data and digital memory.
House Veltar: Builders of war machines, the Dubeon army their iron spine.
House Nexara: Curators of the virtual wilds, architects of artificial Eden.
House Xarotar: Once great. Now disgraced. Almost forgotten.
The Apex could be anyone anyone outside the insignificant houses.
It is not bloodline that decides.
It is intelligence.
The ability to solve problems others avoid.
To hold knowledge like fire.
To carry responsibility without flinching.
This is not a crown.
It is a crucible.
A chance to raise your family name from ash to anthem
If you survive the Trials.
If you outwit the competitors.
If the world allows it.
Enter Kael, son of Oguxn, the last scion of the disgraced House of Xarotar.
Forgotten. Mocked. Regarded as obsolete.
But his path is not of prestige it is one of vengeance and burden.
He does not fight to rule.
He fights to reclaim dignity, to uncover the truth behind his father's death, and to protect the only thing he has left:
His mother.
His sister.
His house.
But justice in this world is a thin myth.
What he finds is chaos.
What he awakens is far greater than any trial he imagined.
Kael is not the Messiah.
He does not come to fulfill prophecy.
But he may be the only one who can stand between the world and its unraveling.
Not to be crowned.
But to ensure history does not repeat itself.
This is the tale of Kael Xarotar.
Of the fractured world.
Of the Forfebeon, the forfeihuman, Vile Kins, the lost exoplanet kin.
Of truth buried in code.
And of the rise not of a savior but of a survivor.
Let us now descend into the era they call: The Arrival of the Messiah.